Wishful Thinking
by akinorev
Summary: As the love of his life walks down the aisle, Yamcha ponders what had been...


Wishful Thinking

It wasn't supposed to end like this. WE weren't supposed to end up like this. We were perfect for each other: we've been friends since forever. We met as teenagers: she was on a journey to find the legendary dragon balls; I was on my way to rob her of the said dragon balls. At the time, I didn't know how to act, what to say to her, the first girl I have ever seen, up close. You see, I was an orphan, born and raised in the desert, with nothing but a talking blue cat for company. Puar and I worked as a tandem, highwaymen of sorts, robbing and stripping every caravan and people who has the misfortune to pass by our lair of everything valuable. And that was how I heard of the legendary amber-colored dragon balls which, once gathered together, shall give anyone his heart's desires. But the dragon balls were thought to be a nonsensical housewives' tale. That was what I thought too, until Puar and I came across one, the 5-starred dragon ball from one of our thieving spree, so to speak. And so, Puar and I left our desert home to find the remaining dragon balls and easily enough, we found 2 more in our journey.

Lady Luck was on our side, for she oh-so-casually dropped the remaining 4 on our lap, in the form of a monkey-tailed kid, a talking pig, and the only female member of their trio, her. And oh boy was she cute. Big blue-eyed and rosy-cheeked, she surely and quickly stole my heart. But she and her friends stunk, apparently they've just defeated some Pilaf guy and were in desperate need of bath and nourishment when they chanced upon my and Puar's transit. She batted her eyes at me so prettily, and me who has never been in the presence of such a pretty girl, well how can I just say no? I would've given her the moon had she wanted it (though of course, I have no idea how) until I saw the dragon balls in their possession. I am a guy, but I am a guy THIEF, emphasis on thief, so pretty girl or not, I was determined to take the dragon balls for myself. Well, I tried to, until her monkey-tailed sidekick turned monkey on us. In the end, it was the talking pig that got his wish: a pair of bloomers. Definitely life-changing, I know.

She took me and Puar in and introduced us to her family and her gang of misfits; apparently she was a celebrity of sorts and can afford to feed and clothe the entire city if she wanted to. She taught me not only the ways of the city, but the ways of love as well. We were each other's first love, first kiss, first everything. Everything was going well and I was secure in the knowledge that soon we will get married, have a couple kids, and live in CC, until the arrival of what could possibly be the harbinger of earth's destruction: the Saiyans. The situation deteriorated from there: I was killed on the first onslaught; she and the others had to go to outer space to defeat the Saiyans' arch-nemesis, Freeza. It didn't end there of course, the android siblings came next, of which the purple-haired kid warned us about. All of us went on our separate ways to train and prepare for the twin mechanized monstrosities. And that was apparently the reason why she took HIM in.

He was supposedly a royalty of sorts, the last Prince of the Saiyans, as he so often boasts. Hmm, if you ask me, I think he's more of a prince of a bunch of barbaric monkeys. Anyway, she provided him with everything he needed yet didn't have the decency to ask for nicely: food, shelter, clothing and of course, state of the art training equipment. She catered to his every whim, and I found myself being less and less in her presence. I confronted her about it, but she laughed it off, claimed I was so cute when I'm jealous, and left me on the foyer to cook a meal fit for a king for him. I was confused, hurt and mad. And so I went and pursued hedonistic activities. Not to brag or anything, but being a fighter has its perks and I often found women swooning over my physique. One thing led to another, and another led to many other things. She found out of course; she's practically royalty here on earth and the paparazzi were just itching to get dirt on her. My frolicking with other women behind her back became a source of dirt for the media, and became the source of our not-so-pretty arguments. And with every one of our arguments, he was there, listening, staring, and brooding. Well, granted that most of our arguments occur in the kitchen where his royal highness spends majority of his break time eating her and her family out of house and home, he could've just left the room or at least, turned his eyes away. But, of course that would inconvenience his royal highness now, would it? He sat there, staring at her, a tiny, nearly undetectable smirk on his poker face, contemplating and if I didn't know any better, he seems to enjoy seeing her spitting mad. I couldn't stomach it that in his own twisted way, he adored her and so I left.

I stayed away in the desert for nearly a year with no communication with her and the rest of our friends. It was Puar who broke me out of this stupor. It was stupid, she said, that I was being stupid and a wimp mooning over a girl. I was a man and a man does not solve his problems by running from it. So, I tracked her down, and found her bingeing over ice cream inside the mall. I remembered when she used to do that too whenever we fought so I dared to hope that maybe she was still upset when I left. Maybe, if I grovel on her feet hard enough, she may just take me back and this time, I swore I won't screw up. So I approached her, she threw herself at me in a bear hug, and she beamed at me when she pulled back. I could've died a happy man right there and then, with her in my arms, until I saw her oversized belly. It was excruciating, the pain that followed. It was like dying all over again. She looked at me, with sympathy in her big, blue eyes, pushed me into a bench, bought more ice cream and seriously said: "You and I, we need to talk".

It has been 3 years since then, and the earth was at a rare moment of peace. I wish I could say the same for myself. And now, as I hold her purple-haired son in my arms, I watch her walk down the aisle, to marry the man she loves more than she has ever loved me. She is beautiful, more radiant than I have ever seen her.

"Unca Yammie? Why you crying? Did you know that when people cry, it comes from the lacrimal gland?" little Trunks ask.

I smile and ruffle his hair, "You're gonna be as smart as your mom when you grow up, Trunks!"

"Yeah! And Imma be strong like my daddy too! So, why you crying again, huh? Daddy says only girls cry and boys don't cry cause they're not girls.."

Huh. Typical. I face the aisle to look at her loveliness once again. "Tears of joy, Trunks, tears of joy indeed…"

A/N: I took the liberty to change stuff, like the circumstances where Yamcha and the gang met. In any case, this story is my interpretation of the character of Yamcha and is in no way, supposed to be treated as canon. Like most fanfictions go, Dragon Ball Z, its charaters and everything in it are not mine. Kudos to whoever owns it! :)


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